


Absent Without Leave

by twistedrunes



Series: George [8]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Gen, Guns, Kidnapping, Other, Period-Typical Sexism, Shooting Guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 22:16:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16962495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedrunes/pseuds/twistedrunes
Summary: As soon as your ass hits the chair Tommy begins “Right. So it seems that the Russians have ideas about our newly improved weapons and plan to help themselves on the journey back to Camden Town.”“Fuck off.” Arthur rumbles.“Exactly right Arthur.” Tommy agrees “They can fuck off.”





	Absent Without Leave

“George,” Tommy turned his, and thereby everyone else’s, attention to you “the first shipment of Winchester’s will arrive on Friday. How long until they will be ready for distribution?”

“How many?” You ask.

“Sixty in the first shipment, twenty boxes of three,” Michael confirms after glancing down at his ledger.

“Well, if I can get ahead over the next few days before they arrive, I think I can probably convert four or five a day.” 

“Get ahead?” Michael queries.

“Yeah. If I can have the hand grips and clips made and ready to assemble then it will be quicker. It just depends on how many I can get done in the next few days.”

“Does it require any special skill?” Tommy asks.

“Well no, not really. I just need to make the patterns and then anyone can make them.” You reply

“So you can teach someone to do it?” Tommy asks

“Yeah.” You agree.

Tommy turns his attention to Arthur “Move some men over to George’s section. The faster these things are off our property the better.”

“Right,” Arthur replies. “helpers for George.”

\-----------------

You were nervous and Arthur could tell, “Fucking do what he says. No fucking questions.” He instructs the men selected to help you. He gave you a massive slap on the shoulder as he left that, if not for the bench you were leaning against, would have sent your flying.

After Arthur leaves, you clarify “If you don’t know what to do ask questions. These are precision instruments so they need to be correct. Don’t fucking guess.”  

On the day the first shipment arrived, you had one-hundred hand grips and clips ready to go. You had sent everyone back to their usual work and were alone in your workroom. Having everything pre-made was definitely a help, but it was still slow work.

“How’s it going?” Tommy asks standing in your doorway, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was obviously either on his way in or out; cap, overcoat and gloves on.

“Um,” You stammer, he had caught you off-guard and your thoughts were a million miles away. “Yeah, good. I should be done a bit quicker, probably seven days.” You hadn’t stopped working the whole time you were speaking.

“Where’s everyone else?” Tommy asked looking around the otherwise empty room.

“Well, we made one-hundred clips and hand-grips so I sent them back to their usual work.” You reply

“Hmm,” Tommy comes and stands next to you, picking up the newly modified weapon. “Nice.” He comments. “Can people help with this? Or is it something you need to do?” 

You think for a moment before nodding “I’ll just need to check them all before they go, but yeah I think people could help.”

“Right. Then go round up the ones who helped you before.”

“Thank you.” You nod, expecting Tommy to leave. He remains, turning and leaning against the bench, back to the door. He lights his long ignored cigarette and takes a long, lazy first drag. “Is there something else I can help you with, Mr Shelby?” You ask. Tommy regards you with an arched brow “I mean Tommy.” You correct yourself.

Tommy shakes his head slowly. “No, I was just thinking about my birthday.”

“Mm?” You say turning your attention back to your work. You figure if he’s going to chat you may as well get your work done.

“I was just thinking it would be good if Anna came.” He says taking another deep drag.

You put the gun down and tilt your head as you look him up and down “You’re not used to being told no are you, Mr Shelby?”

“Tommy.”

“Mr Shelby.”

Tommy flexes the fingers of his free hand, the leather of his gloves squeaking. He rubs his thumb along his jaw and turns to face you. He drops his face down, so his mouth is next to your ear “No, I’m not.” His breath is hot on your skin.

You step back from him, looking up to meet his eyes “Anna is dead.”

He closes his eyes slowly, head dropping back his gaze towards the ceiling, smoke floating from his open mouth. Lungs empty, he lets his head drop forward. For the first time, you glimpse sadness in his eyes. He simply nods, turns and leaves without saying another word.

\---------------

You’re in your workshop when Arthur stomps in “Meeting” he says with his usual gruffness. You hesitate wondering what meeting and why you were invited “Come on then George, hop to it.” He orders.

“Coming.” You say, grabbing a rag to wipe your hands while you walk. Arthur says nothing more on your walk to the boardroom and when you both enter you hesitate by the door.

“Sit,” Tommy says, without looking at you, pointing to an empty chair between Michael and John. You shove the dirty rag in your pocket and quickly take your place. Tommy’s not wearing a jacket, only his waistcoat, collared shirt and tie. He leans over the table, spreading his hands wide apart on its surface. As soon as your ass hits the chair Tommy begins “Right. So it seems that the Russians have ideas about our newly improved weapons and plan to help themselves on the journey back to Camden Town.”

“Fuck off.” Arthur rumbles.

“Exactly right Arthur.” Tommy agrees “They can fuck off.” He pauses looking around the table “We know where they plan to hit us, so we’ll be ready for them. The guns are to go to Charlie’s yard this evening. Then tomorrow, as planned,” Tommy stresses “our delivery trucks will leave Small Heath containing nothing but empty crates and Peaky Blinders. And we will end those fucking Russian cunts.”

\---------------

It’s nearly one am when you and Arthur arrive with the final load of weapons at Charlie’s Yard. It had been decided that the crates would be transported in small loads, no more than two crates, per load, so it had taken ages, even with three cars. Arthur was grumbling something about the full moon and its less than helpful presence during manoeuvres. You weren’t really following barely managing to stay awake.

You pull up in the yard and sling your rifle over your shoulder and grab one of the crates out of the back of the car. Arthur had insisted that you be armed with more than your usual revolver “Fucking Russians, can’t fucking trust ‘em.” He’d muttered.

Handing the crate off to Charlie you pull a cigarette from your coat. Seeing Curly walking into the stables you decide to go and say hello. You slip quietly into the stables “Hello Curly.” You say kindly.

“’Ello George” he replies amiably “Do ya know when you’ll be finished? The horses don’t like this at all.” He says, smoothing a calming palm over the neck of a black Shire.

“Last trip Curly, we’ll be all done soon.” You assure him, smiling at his genuine sweetness. You raise your lighter to your cigarette.

The sound of gravel being flung by the tires of rapidly approaching vehicles grabs your attention. A shot rings out and you can hear both Tommy and Arthur yelling and some other voices you don’t recognise. Russian accents. Curly cries out, trying to calm the horses. You grab the lapels of his jacket and force him to look at you. You hold your index finger to your lips, signalling him to be quiet. You point for him to go into the stall with the horses. Then mime that you are going to have a look.

Peeking through the window of the stable your worst fears are confirmed. A group of men are in the yard, guns drawn on the Peaky Blinders. One man has his revolver pushed against Arthur’s temple. You swear under your breath. You sneak back to Curly. “Curly, it looks like the Russians are here.” Curly nods. “I need you to help me get on the roof of the stable, then I can use my rifle. Okay?” Curly nods again and the two of you move silently to the doors. You rub some coal dust on your face and hands. Curly links his fingers together and crouches. “Curly once I’m on the roof, you go back with the horses okay, I need you to let them out and cause a diversion. Don’t let them go until you hear me shoot though okay?” You whisper.

“But they might get hurt.” Curly resists, straightening a little.

“I know Curly, and I’m sorry. But Johnny or Charlie or someone else might get hurt and I have to worry about them first. Okay?” Curly nods “You know none of our boys would hurt a horse if they could avoid it, right?” Curly nods again and crouches back down. You place your right foot firmly on the step formed by his hands and reach up to grab the edge of the roof. You crawl on your belly to the middle and set yourself, pulling your cap down low on your face. You can hear Curly moving the horses below you.

Moonlight streams over the yard, giving you an excellent view. You do a quick headcount. Eight Russians. Twelve of you. Of the interlopers, two are on Tommy, and one each on Arthur, John, Finn, Johnny and two other boys. You outnumber them, but not by much. The young man with the gun pushed to Arthur’s head is young and obviously nervous, his eyes flitting all over the place. You lie still, mentally ensuring your breath is deep and even. Watching the rest of the Peaky Blinders, you can see they are noticing you and Curly are missing. You whistle softly, a gentle bird call you’ve heard Arthur and Tommy using. As the Blinders give little whistles of reply you see Arthur’s captor starting to lose his nerve. He cocks the gun. Unable to delay any longer you fire, the young man drops immediately. You hear Curly whooping, to spook the horses and the yard is quickly filled with the percussion of heavy hooves. In the confusion, you shoot both John’s and Charlie’s captors as the others quickly overpower the remaining Russians. You stand to get a better view and hear the sound of an engine revving and a car roaring out of the yard. You quickly look around.  _FUCK!_  “They’ve fucking got Tommy.” You cry.

Arthur looks up at you. “Tommy!” you yell again pointing in the direction of the car.

“Right, fucking get after him.” Arthur yells pointing to Johnny and another man.

You run back to the edge of the roof and lower yourself back down. Curly appearing just in time to catch you and saving you from a heavy landing. You run to Arthur, he has a gun to the head of one of the captured men. You can see his fury, statuesque frame rigid and eyes burning.   You see the change in Arthur’s posture, as his hand moves slightly poised to pull the trigger “Arthur! Stop!” You order.

He turns to you “They’ve taken my fucking brother and you’re telling me not to kill the fucker.”

You hold your hands up to mollify him “No, but they know where they are taking him. They didn’t kill him straight away so they obviously want something from him. We can get him back.” Arthur glowers at you and punches the man in the head. “Get the three of them tied up and in the stables.” You instruct. “Charlie, I need your phone.”

“What the fuck are you up to George, hey?” Arthur demands.

“Getting Tommy back.” You reply, already striding to Charlie’s office and the phone. “Arthur you come with me, the rest of you get this lot, tied up and hidden away. Get those dead bodies out of sight. Curly, get the horses back in their stables. None of you does anything else until Arthur and I get back.”

Arthur falls in beside you. “What the hell are you playing at hey?”

“We need to get Tommy back. Tommy is smart and tough. So he knows we’ll be coming and he can put up with a bit before we get there. We need to be smart. If we just kill those three we won’t find out where Tommy is.”

“So what the fuck are we doing then?” Arthur explodes again.

“I’m calling Alfie.”

“You’re fucking what? We don’t need that bastard down here to solve our problems. I can do whatever fucking magic Jewish shit you think he can.”

“Arthur just shut up for five minutes. I’m calling Alfie to get his guys to start looking for Tommy from their end. Right? And to see if he knows anything.” You pick up the phone and instruct the operator, relief washing over you when you hear Ollie’s voice on the other end “Ollie. George here. I need to speak to Alfie now.”

“Hold on,” Ollie instructs and you hear him call out to Alfie.

“Nava!” Alfie begins, you can hear the flirt in his voice.

You cut him off “The Russians have taken Tommy.”

“The fuck?”

“Five minutes ago from Charlie’s yard. Fuckers knew we were coming. We’ve killed three, two have Tommy and three are here in the yard. They left the guns. I need you to start looking for him from your end.” You speak quickly.

“Right.” he begins, “I think you need to invite Anna’s Aunty down to Small Heath, yeah?”

“But, Arthur is here,” You begin

“Trust me. Put Arthur on the phone.” Alfie commands

With a shake of your head, you hand the phone over. You can barely watch Arthur’s face, nearly puce with rage as he listens to Alfie. Then his brow furrows and he looks at you. “Fuck me.” He says slowly with a shake of his head. Followed by a series of one-word responses to what you assume are Alfie’s further instructions “Right. Yeah. Got it. Done.” Arthur hangs up. “Apparently an acquaintance of Alfie’s is on her way. He says she’ll be able to get the answers we need.” He looks at you sceptically.

Unable to help yourself you reach out and rub his shoulder. “I can do this Arthur. I promise. I’ll find out where Tommy is. We’ll get him back.”

“So Alfie says.” He replies quietly before shaking his head and looking at you again.

“Shit! I need clothes, a dress.” You say thinking out loud. 

Arthur looks you up and down “I’ll call Linda and tell her to get some stuff ready.”

“Are you sure?” You ask knowing Linda’s and thereby Arthur’s dislike of involving her in business in any way.

Arthur nods “Can’t be helped.”

“Thank you.” You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Right! Fuck off and do what you need to do. We’ll wait here. Just don’t take too fucking long, hey?”

“Don’t hurt them. Make them wait. I’ll be back soon.” You say as you run out of the office and jump in a car, driving as quickly as possible to Arthur’s. 

Linda greets you at the door, bleary and doe-eyed. You place a hand on her shoulder “Arthur’s fine. But I need to hurry.” Linda nods and shows you to the lounge room where she has set out a few dresses along with accessories. You smile and nod “You go back to bed now okay? I’m just going to wash up, change and I’ll be on my way.”

Linda shakes her head “Tea?” she asks

“Whiskey?” you counter. Linda nods and takes the bottle from the sideboard and half-fills a glass. “Thanks,” you say pointing to an end table. “I’m just going to wash up.” You explain holding up you’re filthy hands. In the bathroom, you strip to your underwear and remove your bindings. Then you wash your face and hands working to get rid of as much coal dust as possible. Without re-dressing, you bundle your clothes and using them as a shield against your nakedness, you skip lightly down the stairs and into the lounge. Linda gasps at your entrance and appearance, but you just move quickly to the clothing and begin to dress. Linda’s clothes are a little small on you. But you figure showing a little more flesh won’t hurt in this situation.

Once you’re finished dressing Linda looks you over and tells you to sit so she can do your hair and make-up. Frustrated, but seeing her point you do as she instructs. You gulp mouthfuls of whiskey between her ministrations. Finally, complete she stands back and looks you over. “You look lovely.” She says, sounding surprised.

“Thanks. I’ve got to go. We’ll send some boys round to watch the place as soon as possible. Don’t open the door to anyone.” You note the fear and sadness in her eyes, you soften “I’ll get Arthur home to you as soon as I can, okay?”

Unexpectedly she pulls you into an embrace “Please be careful George.” She tells you.

You nod, grab your bundle of clothes quickly make for the door.

\----------------

Outside the yard you are stopped by a group of Peaky boys, guns drawn and blocking your path. “What you doing out all on your own?” One leers leaning against the car window. You roll your eyes “Scary place down ‘ere in the dark.” He continues attempting to sound hard.

“I’m expected. I have an appointment with Arthur.” You say bluntly. Making a note of his face for later.

The man bristles slightly and begins to shake his head. “No business tonight love.” He chuckles at his own wit.

You shove open the door, hitting your unwanted friend in the shin and causing him to grab at it cursing. You stand on the running board and yell “Arthur!”

“What the fuck you doing out there?” Arthur shouts back striding across the yard, coat billowing behind him, lamp in his hand. The congregation of men look at each other nervously and part.

You step quickly down and snatch the cap of the man still moaning about his ankle “When you stop crying like a child you may get this back.” You throw his cap on the back seat and slam the door, driving quickly inside. Barely allowing the car to stop you grab a hessian sack and begin to fill it with various blacksmithing and other tools. You throw the branding irons in the still glowing embers of the forge.

Arthur meets you outside the door of the stable, lamp lifted high. “Fuck me.” He says approvingly, looking you over.

You look at him, your face screwed up in mock horror “No love, you’re not my type.” You quip, laughing nervously.  Arthur gives a throaty chuckle. “Where’s everyone else?” You ask serious again.

“Johnny’s back they lost ‘im.” He grunts and hits the side of the building, “Nearly every Blinder in the city is looking for him.” He continues more to himself than you, “Here we’ve got lads all around the perimeter, up and down the canal, the rest of us are in the stable.”

You think for a moment “Who’s with little Charlie?”

“Some of our lads.”

“Send Johnny to Tommy’s. Get Finn out into the office to answer the phone in case Alfie or anyone else calls.” You pause for a minute “Get Curly to keep him company.”

“You ready?” He pauses “George?”  

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah.” You hand him the sack. “Take this in and put it down where they can see it, but don’t unpack it. Don’t say or do anything. Just stand there looking menacing. You know, just be you.” you grin and straighten his bowtie “I’ll be in, in a minute.”

Arthur nods solemnly “I hope you know what the fuck you’re doing.” He says taking the sack from your hand.

_Me too Arthur, me too._  You agree silently.


End file.
